Best of the Good Guys

In a land that never heard of Ray Lewis and Rae Carruth and Mark Chmura, Derrick Brooks is standing among a group of Africans. They’re demonstrating tribal dances, and Brooks, much to the delight of 20 giddy American teen-agers standing next to him, tries to imitate the moves. Badly. The teen-agers laugh and slap hands. They can’t remember the last time they had seen anything so hilarious.

To these teens, Brooks is much more than a wannabe dancer. Or one of the NFL’s elite linebackers. He is a friend, a confidant, a father figure, a maker of dreams come true. On this early summer day, they are living out an adventure none ever dared imagine. They are in the midst of a 12-day journey through South Africa, a $200,000 all-expenses-paid expedition--part sightseeing, part educational--financed by Brooks so these inner-city youths can get a taste of the world that otherwise would be beyond their means.

Brooks is a bachelor with jet-set wealth, yet he has chosen to spend part of the last four summers traveling with various members of the Brooks Bunch, whose membership includes all the kids at a couple of Tampa boys and girls clubs. There’s something inside of him that prods him to do stellar deeds. It’s his late grandmother, a steel-willed lady with little means who always could find an extra place at the dinner table for some needy stranger. It’s the little girl, part of a small group he took to Fort Lauderdale three years ago, who sat next to him on her first plane ride, looked into his eyes and told him, “This is the best day of my life.”

It’s also the bad side of pro football, the world that Brooks avoids, the world that we hear and read about too much--the domestic violence, the Lewis murder trial, the Carruth murder charges, the Chmura sexual-assault charge, the drunk driving, the drug use.

“With what is going on with today’s athletes, it is forcing guys to come forward to say they are doing good because we are getting a black eye,” he says sadly.

And it’s the testimony of a teen-aged member of the Brooks Bunch. “We really weren’t bad before Derrick started coming here,” Michael Sails says, “but we are a lot better now because of him. Maybe we were 49% OK back then, and now we are 90%. When we start to do something, we think about whether Derrick would approve.”

Brooks is told what Sails has said, and he takes a while to reply. Can’t let anyone see that tear. The core of his quest is all of the above, but more than anything, it is a compelling desire to influence the future of kids who desperately need guidance toward good.

And to him, it means more than being a mentor to these Tampa youngsters, all of whom live in the city’s low-income areas. It means more than buying them sneakers at Christmas or supplying 24 tickets for them to each Bucs game or even playing pickup basketball with them, when he can be just one of the guys, not some famous football star.

It means piecing together a yearlong educational program that serves as motivation for his youngsters to improve their minds and behavioral skills. And the reward for those who follow his blueprint the closest grows more stunning every year. First, it was that quick plane hop to Fort Lauderdale. Then, a trip to Atlanta and the Martin Luther King Jr. Center. Then it was four days in Washington, D.C., and a study of the intricacies of the federal government. Then South Africa. And for each one, he is the tour leader.

“He is,” says Ricky Gallon, a former Louisville basketball player who now is director of Tampa’s Ponce de Leon Boys and Girls Club, “a remarkable man.”

This certainly is the year we need a remarkable man in pro sports. Set against a background of seemingly endless misguided behavior by our pro athletes, we need someone like Brooks to remind us of all the Good Guys who dominate our major pro leagues. For every criminal act that receives publicity, there are tens of good deeds being performed by Brooks and his peers, the ones who have a heart and who truly care about their communities and the needs that exist in every town.

For the second straight year, The Sporting News honored the 99 top Good Guys in professional sports. These are the guys who should restore your faith in athletics, who should overwhelm the jerks who have abused their wealth and stature and demeaned their avocation, who should convince you that there still are bubble-gum heroes, that there still is a reason to lose yourself in the fantasy of sports. We’re happy to report that we had more than 400 nominations for these 99 spots; this Good Guys team has plenty of depth.

Among the final 99, five in particular stood out for their exceptional community service: Troy Aikman (NFL), Al Leiter (baseball), Adam Graves (NHL), Terry Cummings (NBA)--and, above everyone, Brooks. He is our No. 1 Good Guy for the year 2000, an unassuming man with an enormous love for children. He is what being a Good Guy is all about: He does none of his work for publicity. He has no foundation director, no elaborate organization, no polished buzz words to explain his acts. He simply is a quiet, peaceful guy with an amazing capacity for giving and, evidently, for tolerance.

“You are taking how many teen-agers to Africa?” T Williams asked Brooks when she first heard about his trip plans. Williams is the mother of two teen-age girls who are veteran Brooks Bunch members. “I know what it is like to take my two on a long trip together, much less adding in 18 more kids,” she says, laughing.

First of all, the trip itself seemed unimaginable, even to long-standing Brooks Bunchers. Africa. Derrick couldn’t possibly mean it. And how was he going to decide from among all the kids who surely would want to go?

Now that Brooks is back from the June 24-July 5 trip, he can laugh about the initial reactions. But there were times he wondered himself about the complexities of the proposed journey. Even with the able assistance of the Bucs’ community-relations staff, the layers that had to be covered during the months before takeoff were daunting: plane, hotel and restaurant plans for the 20 kids and 19 adults, including coach Tony Dungy and his wife; photos and passports; transportation within South Africa; a security contingent to make sure everything took place without incident; clothing, luggage and miscellaneous supplies for everyone because to travel right, these kids had to look and act right. The costs mounted as Brooks kept adding children (originally 12 were to go). But Brooks never wavered. Nor walked away from the work.

The core of the Africa trip was a nine-month educational course about that continent funded by Brooks that each prospective trip participant had to attend. Starting last October and ending in April, classes were held every other week; only four absences were allowed. Teachers hired from local schools led the instruction; the curriculum included everything from geography to history to specific lessons on Nelson Mandela and apartheid. Each of the youngsters, who ranged in age from 13 to 17 and included some candidates from an Orlando club, was required to keep a journal during classes. At the end, they had to present an essay to a panel about why they should be chosen. They also had to maintain a 2.5 grade-point average in school and meet expected levels in attendance and behavior. Brooks would have taken every child who qualified, but logistics and security concerns limited him to 20.

For most of these disadvantaged youngsters, who attend some of the most underfunded Tampa and Orlando schools, the class requirements were a challenge. Many could not even write a five-paragraph essay, and it became a goal of Brooks and his instructors that they at least learn that fundamental skill by the end of the nine months.

That’s why Brooks considers the educational aspect as the major reason to plan the trips. “I want them to change,” he says about his kids. “I want them to be good people. I let them know, if you can change for six to eight months, you can continue to be better for a lifetime. I want to affect their lives positively, not just for an extended period, but forever. If they can come in and at least step apart from the pack and become leaders, that is what I want. I want to plant a seed that will grow.

“When I first started with the Bucs, I had a ticket program for these kids. But that wasn’t enough. I felt I was cheating myself. I just thank the Lord that he gave me an itch to do more. I came to the (Ponce) club five years ago because I wanted to visit the kids who got the tickets. If I didn’t have personal contact and personalize my message and have them hear my vision, then just giving tickets was useless.

“I sit down and talk to them and get to know their names and their parents. It makes me accountable. If I am going to be the message about school and drugs and conduct, then I want to be real. I don’t want to put up a facade. I do think there have been some changes in these kids over the years, something as simple as my guys opening doors for the ladies or the ladies sitting in a room with their legs crossed and using better language. All I ask from them is respect--respect me, respect each other, respect authority--and get your grades up and be happy and get involved and don’t be wasting your time.”

Brooks usually comes unannounced to the clubs. He just walks in and starts talking to the kids. They have learned to trust him. He has heard horrible stories of abuse, of family breakups, of temptations. Many of the children have no dads at home; some live with their grandparents. The clubs are their sanctuary; Brooks is a symbol that the athletes they worship can be real and trustworthy.

“He is a friend,” says Natasha Spencer, 15. “You can talk to him about things, and you can feel very comfortable around him. He doesn’t act like a famous person but like a regular person.”

Brooks grew up poor and happy in Pensacola, Fla. He is intelligent and a quick learner, but school bored him. He became the class clown until the fifth grade, when his stepdad, tired of getting calls from the principal about his son’s mischievous behavior, spanked him in front of his class. That episode changed his life. He finished high school with a 3.94 GPA and then earned his degree from Florida State, completing his course work five months early. He then earned his master’s with off-season work. Around the Bucs’ organization and at his boys and girls clubs, his generosity is legendary. It’s hard for him to say no.

Take spending money for these trips.

Why Africa? “Because I have never been there, either,” Brooks says, “and it is the motherland for these kids. So much of their heritage is tied up in this continent. How better for them to be educated?”

So, in a whirlwind of plane rides, bus trips and jeep excursions, Brooks and his bunch jammed a month’s worth of wanderings into a blink of an eye.

Brooks came away satisfied the trip had served its purpose. “The kids were wonderful,” he says. “They didn’t surprise me because they always are surprising me. They soaked it all up, and now they need to share it with their friends.”

Now he is deciding whether he will continue the annual trips or plan them on a biennial basis. He won’t rule out a return to Africa; who says 20 teen-agers can test your sanity?